Emily Sweeting and the First Year
by Queen.Andromache
Summary: Emily Sweeting is a first year at Hogwarts, oblivious to the challenges around her. But when her fate changes when she meets the famous Harry Potter and meets her new best friend Neville she finds herself in constant danger.


**Warning: If you have not read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone or Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets this piece of fiction will probably make no sense. Thank you.**

My letter came in the mail on my birthday, June 10th.

 _Dear Ms. Sweeting,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all the necessary books and equipment…_

I was ecstatic! Me, a witch!

A "squib" my mother called herself. She said, "Emily, I am so proud, I never thought that you would have the chance."

My father of course was completely surprised. When he married my mother he had resigned himself to the fact that his offspring hadn't a chance to be like him - a wizard.

I, being an only child, was a breakthrough for my parents. They were still young, and not the most connected people. My father was a half blood, not respected in the high society of pure bloods. When he fell in love with my mother they cut themselves off from the world, removed from all civilization to live in a remote part of the Appalachian Mountains in America.

And now I was a witch!

My list required a great number of things. A pewter cauldron, at least 20 first year books, and the treat of all of them, a wand! I was positively obsessed. I read it over and over. This compared to none of my birthday gifts. And until the term started, September 1st, I read it over and over every night.

In mid-July my parents and I flew to London. I had been several times for Christmas, just to visit my grandparents on my mother's side. My father's lived in Germany, which I had been to quite a lot more. My father's parents, Bartholomew and Silvia Sweeting, were fond of my mother.

For the time being we would stay with the Unna side of the family.

"Who's my precious little Unna?" My grandmother said through her unpleasantly wet kisses.

"Mum, she's a Sweeting."

My grandmother straightened sternly, "She's still half an Unna."

My father cut in between the mother and daughter, giving my grandmother a kiss on the cheek. His move to loosen the tension in the room worked well.

"Hello darling," chuckled my grandmother.

My grandfather stumbled down the stairs.

"Hello, son. Elizabeth!" He hugged my mother tightly.

"Hi dad," she greeted in a raspy lung-crushed voice.

He then directed his attention to me. His furry eyebrows almost obscured his eyes, his wrinkles like a crooks of an old book.

"Eh you, little _witch_ ," he smiled at me with a semi-toothless grin, "you made it."

"Yes sir, I did."

"Than what are you waiting for? Go get your books!"

Diagon Alley was more beautiful than the pictures my parents had showed me. My father was taking me this time. He said it was because my mother needed some "alone" time with her parents, but I knew that the wizarding world scared her. She never felt at home in it.

First stop was the bank, um, Gringos. No, no, sorry, Gringotts! We had only a small amount of wizard money, but there was an exchange. You could give your muggle money to the goblins, which are _not_ at all friendly, and they give you wizard money back. My father said that if we didn't have enough we could use the Sweeting account, since my father had a key, but I couldn't wrap my mind around not having enough. I'd seen wizard pocket change before, but for 50 dollars in muggle money you got 7 Galleons, 113 Knuts, and 24 Sickles.

First on list: clothing.

 _Three sets of plain black robes._

Off to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. We walked along the crowded roads full of many diverse peoples. There were seldom elderly, probably because the streets were bursting to the rim of young wizards and witches, accompanied by their parents or mentors. However there was an odd old lady in a expensive bird hat carrying her… grandson by the ear,

"Neville! How could you lose him again? He's a huge bloody toad." The boy whimpered as he was dragged along.

My father and I looked at each other like children, sharing the delight of another in trouble. We giggled as we were swept away with the bustling crowd. We did not stay distracted with the boy for long, for I gasped at the sight of the most wonderful place I had ever seen. The sign read,

 _Florean Fortescue's Iced Cream Parlor_

"Dad!" I yelled in his ear, "please, please, please, please, please!" I pointed harshly to the ice cream shop, poking a middle aged wizard in a turban.

"Oh, sorry!" I called, but he muttered,

"It's o-o-o-ok-kay." My father paid no attention to the funny man, however.

"Honey," he began to protest, "we don't have a lot of money to have fun with."

"But dad, it's _ice cream_. That's my favorite muggle treat!" I could tell by his expression that he was thinking about all the possible outcomes if he said yes or no.

"Fine," he smiled, and as fast as I could I tugged him towards the lovely pastels colours and the sweet smell of cream.

After ice cream was dripping down our front and we had literally gotten one thing done (clothing), I was ready for book pick up. First on the list was _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_.

We walked into Flourish and Blotts with good intent; however we walked out with a few more books than necessary. All the books looked interesting! Except for the books with that big-headed, pretty boy on the front. My father made a funny face, smiling dopily, and joked, "I'm Gilderoy Lockhart!" I thought it was hilarious, but many witches huddled around the book gave us the death eye.

Of course I had other things to get. A cauldron, a telescope, a set of brass scales, a wand. Things had to be done!


End file.
